


To You I Say: Dog-Rose

by RoseintheWind



Series: Iwaoi Week 2020 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Assassination, F/F, Forbidden Love, I'm LIVING for Oikawa Yachi friendship, Kinda, Kingdom tension, Language of Flowers, Letters, M/M, Politics, Royalty AU, Secret trades, Shitty and technically abusive parenting, The entire kingdom is hella paranoid, Things are sappy until they're not, iwaoi week 2020, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27886048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseintheWind/pseuds/RoseintheWind
Summary: ~~Iwaoi Week Day 4 - Forbidden Love/Flowers/Royalty~~His suitors don't seem to get the hint. He declines their offers of grandiose structures in his favour and riches beyond as his mind focuses to something more important at hand: an impending assassination, the peace gala, and the prince of Contratawa who he only see's once a year and is supposed to be on rocky terms with, he's finding to be...nicer than he was expecting.Paranoia may run rampant through his streets but so do the carriers, and the foreign flowers they're sending to him along with it.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Oikawa Tooru & Yachi Hitoka, Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka
Series: Iwaoi Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035180
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	To You I Say: Dog-Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Hittin' ya with a triple threat  
> In other news ya’ll better have seen the new episode of season 4 Oikawa. He’s so precious oh my god I love him so much
> 
> (And if you know where the second song that I put for this fic is from shhhh no you don’t)

"Tooru-san? You have another-"

Oikawa sighs, already prone to what all of the servants in the castle love to tell him. "Thank you, Mitsuki-chan! I'll see to it!" He places on his best smile to the maid before walking away, a skip in his step. 

Another man from a faraway kingdom come to sweep him off his feet and make him compromise all of his riches. He's thoroughly not interested in any of them. 

His parents push him, tell him that he'll need someone else in order to maintain a kingdom and can't be spending all of his time on his hobbies when there are people who need service. He doesn't  _ need  _ anyone. And he  _ definitely  _ doesn't need them telling him what he can't do. 

"Tooru-san? I've placed out your buckets of water." Another maid comes running up to him. 

"Thank you, Yukiko-chan!" At least this maid tailors to his desires. He'll have to check on his garden later. 

He enters into his throne room, the few spectators peeling away their gaze from each other and laying heavy back onto their prince. 

They bow to him, slit their bodies in total vulnerability. The throne is grand, gold accenting the frame and curling around the fabric protectively. The cyan fabric underneath feels like lying on a bed of roses, the plush behind easy to rest on. Perfect for a ruler that commands, through the words that reach the people's ears, and the motions they unconsciously project when they are in the presence of someone they cannot predict the next move of. 

The man that walks in walks as if lilypads extend from his every step, cautious and light. He bows to Oikawa as all the others in the court do, but they stay their eyes on the handsome newcomer. Long auburn hair cascades over his shoulders, and his piercing golden eyes look just below Oikawa's in respect. The court's attention, mostly to the blushing females, stands in alert to the new prince in their vicinity. Whispers burn the walls. 

" _ Oikawa-san's ruthless with proposals. But will it be now where he accepts? I surely would." _

"Oikawa no kimi. I hope your day has been good." The stranger starts.

Oikawa gestures for him to stand, apprehensive to the suffix no one calls him. "It has. What is your name, prince of Lightress?" Oikawa peers at him, obvious to the answer.

The other princes' smile teeters and he turns to open his mouth before a small girl comes rushing in, blonde hair whipping behind her.

"Toor-Oikawa-san! I'm sorry for-" She notices the glare of the court directing their attention on her. "F-for being late." She squeaks quietly and runs to Oikawa's side. Oikawa lightly touches her shoulder to assure her. 

The man in front of them continues, eyeing the girl with curiosity. "I am Hiroto Ito, heir of Lightress. I must ask what your name is miss, I feel it to be rude of me not to."

The girl startles, unused to being directly spoken to in the presence of Oikawa. "Yachi Hitoka. Pleased to meet you." She says, guarded. 

"Hitoka. I'll treasure the name." Yachi shivers at the mention of her first name being spoken by a foreign tongue. 

Oikawa clears his throat. "I believe we were talking about something." His face turns sharper. If he was even contemplating giving a chance in the first place, Hiroto completely crushed it by flirting with his right-hand lady. 

Hiroto straightens and brings out a flower and hands it to Oikawa. "Of course! Please, let me first give you this flower of home."

Purple hyacinth. Oikawa wants to laugh. Hiroto straightens.

"I ask for an arrangement, a peace between kingdoms. I wish for your hand in marriage. We will have a grand wedding, and I can spoil you with the riches of Lightress. We have so much to gain from this. You simply can't decline." 

Oikawa only lets him finish because he knows that's the polite thing to do. 

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to say no to your offer. But thank you for coming all the way out to propose. If that is all, the court is dismissed."

"Wha-?" Hiroto gawks. "I haven't even finished what we were going to do together on the coasts of the beaches! My kingdom is known for its tourist sites, imagine what I could show you!" 

"It is exactly for that reason. I'm not going to fraternize with someone who only can care about marriage and not the sanctity of their own kingdom in an arrangement. Thank you for visiting. I'm sorry this meeting didn't go as you planned."

"No! But-" He tries to walk along as Oikawa and Yachi exit. "-but I must say one more thing! Hitoka, you are so bright, as bright as a Lightress sun-"

"I would advise you to leave." Comes a silky voice in full clad armour, hand on his shoulder before Oikawa can advise the prince to step away. The person's face is concealed and slightly shorter than Oikawa. 

Hiroto's eyes grow wide as the knight pushes him along to one of the others that guard the throne room. They escort a whiny Hiroto out of the castle. Oikawa briefly catches: "You're lucky it wasn't Contratawa! You're lucky- before his eyes narrow. "How many people..." He hisses before shaking his head. 

Yachi worriedly glances at him before her attention is drawn to the knight in front of her. Said knight takes off their helmet. Long black hair seeps down, and her strict blue eyes soften when they look at Yachi.

"Are you okay, Hitoka-chan?"

Yachi lets a small smile break on her face. "Y-yes, thank you."

"Another proposal?" She asks a scrunched-faced, pondering, Oikawa.

Oikawa pouts when he notices words are being spoken to him. "They just don't quit! I hear them all whisper: "Oikawa-sama doesn't ever accept proposals! Will it really happen?" No! I know they know that, and they just keep coming! I don't want to get married to frivolous fools who give flowers meaning  _ I'm sorry _ !" 

"Really? That's what that meant?" Yachi cringes. 

"They're horrible Yacchan, horrible! You're lucky you have Kiyochan."

Yachi's face considerably darkens red. "I-"

Kiyoko, the knight, sighs at Oikawa's teasing. "Tooru-san..."

Oikawa laughs. "Sorry, sorry, you guys are just so cute! Oh! That's right! I do have things to do today, so make sure no creepy suiters come in, will you? Bye, bye!"

The colour on Yachi's cheeks softens as she fondly looks off. "Do you think he's okay?"

Kiyoko sighs, a breath barely heard. "I think he will be. I would be tired as well in his position though."

"Yachi-san!" One of the maids comes running up to the two of them, flats trying to stop as not to run into Kiyoko and be sent to god knows what hell. Her face peeks out behind a flower bouquet. 

"Could you possibly give this to Oikawa-san? If you're not busy of course."

"Sure! What's it from?"

The maid stutters. "I-I'm not sure! It was left without a tag. It has been checked, it's just a normal bouquet, but I'm not sure where it's from."

"You can leave it in my hands!" Yachi smiles. 

"Thank you so much, Yachi-san. If you ever need anything, I'll be there!" 

Yachi waves her hand before handling the bouquet. "It's not needed. I'm just glad to help you!" 

"Okay! Bye Yachi-san, K-Kiyoko-san!"

"Well, I'd better get to that." Yachi smiles and tucks a strand behind her shoulder-length hair. The piece falls back.

"Okay. See you later." Kiyoko smiles and retucks her hair back. 

Yes, it's not hard to see her crush on Kiyoko, but did Tooru have to put it like that,  _ right in front of her _ ? She's going to combust. She knows Tooru can't help it but  _ really _ ? She knocks on his room door. 

"Tooru? There's something here for you."

" _ Yacchan? Come in! _ " She hears from the other side. 

The door slowly creaks as she cracks it open. Oikawa looks up to her from a book he has placed on his bed. 

"Where'd you find this, Yacchan?" Oikawa asks, interest brimming in his voice rather than agitation. 

"One of the maids found it. They've checked it, of course, but I'm not sure what it's about."

Oikawa's eyes pique at the mention of flowers. He looks the batch over before his face melts fondly like it was from an old friend he hadn't heard from in eons. 

"Uhm, Tooru, could you translate?"

"Sorry, Yacchan! To think that I'd go from someone who has no awareness of flowers to this, well." His face softens again. "Yellow tulips, bluebells, borage, and fennel. Quite the charmer with this one! I'd almost say it's unfair, this is my domain!" He laughs like the room is full with only him and the sender of the bouquet. "Yellow tulips symbolize sunshine in your smile, bluebells are faithfulness and dependability, borage is bluntness, and fennel is flattery. Essentially saying, this is blunt, but I'm flattering you by saying I love how dependable you are, and your smile is beautiful. Isn't that cute? The best proposal I've ever gotten, and they're not even here!"

"That's really cute. But could you be at all sure that you don't know who sent this? It could've been from Lightress."

"I don't think we have to worry about that. If Lightress wanted me to forgive them, I doubt they'd have the sender unsigned."

_ What if the card got lost? How do we know that they were able to send this in time? What if it's spies of a rival kingdom? _ Run through Yachi's head. But she knows she can put her faith in Oikawa. And with a look like that? She hasn't seen him look so happy after the suitors started coming in. 

"Yacchan?" Oikawa asks, putting the flowers on one of his shelves. 

"Yes!" 

"You look like you're thinking a lot again."

She spares a glance at the flowers one more time before straightening out. "No, it's nothing! I'd better get going. Don't forget about the garden!" 

Oikawa watches Yachi leave in amusement. He likes to think of her as dedicated. With someone like Kiyoko around, he's glad she seems to be moving out of her shell and taking authority, a stark contrast to when she worked her way up to being his right-hand lady, and her nerves were practically tangible the first day. 

His thoughts though, stray back to the flowers. He truly enjoyed them, something he doesn't see often, but he can't help but feel apprehensive. All signs point to harmlessness and casual flirting, but it coming out of nowhere without someone to place the gift stuck out as suspicious. But yes, Yachi was right. He'd have time for investigations later. His garden awaited his return. 

"You  _ what? _ "

"Iwaizumi it's not that big of a deal, there's no saying who it's from! He'll never know!"

Hundreds of miles away, in a kingdom that isn't decorated with the soft tones of blue, Hajime Iwaizumi, crown prince of Contratawa, paces in his room as his best friend, Hanamaki, has just delivered possibly the worst, most embarrassing news that could ever grace his ears. 

"That was for-urghh" He groans. " _ Why  _ would you do that?"

"Because we were all under the assumption that it was purposeful! C'mon Iwaizumi, you really can't hide this."

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Hanamaki only shoots him a smirk. 

"I've met him like-seven times! And it was for political business! He's probably never even thought of me beyond for prosperity of his own kingdom! "

"Should've thought about that one. You were clearly planning on sending it."

"No! No, I wasn't!" His increasingly redder face is completely betraying him in the face of Hanamaki. Maybe later he can use Matsukawa as leverage. 

"Oh, please remind me of your fated encounters once more, kind prince." Hanamaki sings like he's the damsel in a shitty fairy tale that is completely useless and needs to be rescued by some random man. 

"Fuck off."

"That's not very king-like of you, dear Prince! Shall I wash your shoes and cleanse you of your unholy tongue?"

"I swear, I will have you fired."

"I'm sorry, but I have the power of love or power of love from someone else! I simply can't be touched in this hierarchy thanks to how big of a crush you have for a crown prince known for rejecting his suitors!"

"Hey, Matsukawa?" Iwaizumi yells. Matsukawa, gangly limbs and tired eyes poking from behind a wall because he's always there whenever Iwaizumi calls somehow, scans Iwaizumi before doing the same to Hanamaki. He now knows he's got to make a choice. Iwaizumi isn't in the favourable mood to give him one. "Where's the resignation papers?"

Hanamaki is going to ride this joke until the end but at least he has the decency to look mock-scared before he gasps. "Iwaizumi, you wouldn't!"

"Yes." Is all Iwaizumi cares to say at that point. "Yes, I would."

Matsukawa realizes he has been resigned to his fate and hands Iwaizumi a stack of paper. 

"Sign here." He says flatly. Hanamaki gives. 

"Okay, okay! I get it! I'll let your..." He pauses, his evil smirk fuelling his entire expression. "... _ crush  _ go."

Iwaizumi groans. "I swear to god, you're so fucking dead!"

Hanamaki can only laugh as Matsukawa snorts behind his hands. 

"Look, I need to fix this."

"I don't think it's that big of a deal. It says it's not from anyone, and just because you so happen to know that Oikawa-sama can read flower language like it's the one he's had from birth, doesn't mean that you, yourself, are screwed. 

"He just wasn't supposed to find it in the first place! We don't even live near each other and somehow it still got out!"

"If you really feel like you've screwed up you can always send him something different, more friendly. Anonymously if you still want to."

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath. "Yeah, okay. We'll try that."

"Good luck!" Hanamaki calls after him as Iwaizumi heads to the palace garden. 

_ Good luck? _ He ponders the words.  _ Yeah. I'm going to need a hell of a lot of luck. _

The Nichitora palace garden is as big as a ballroom, housing many types of plants ranging from edible to poisonous. This is the one place his suitors can't and won't touch. The glass ceiling arches high as the peak catches the sunlight. The rays shower over the plants, and they already look like they're in better shape. 

For all the manual labour the servants love the royal family not to do, Oikawa finds happiness in watering and tending to the plants as if they were his little court. The garden is his kingdom. Yet, his paranoia, specifically today, runs high. The plants feel as though they have all grow eyes to peer at his life and steal it, auctioning it off to whoever is interested enough. But that, of course, is ridiculous. He almost wants to laugh to himself, let the bitter sound bounce against the glass panes and right back into his ears as a reminder. For as much grief as he gives Yachi for being in her head too much and second-guessing everything, he sure loves to analyze, to predict what is wrong (because there is always something wrong) and predict how you can eliminate the problem, for himself or the kingdom.

"Are these for the gala, Oikawa-sama?" One of the maids, Mika Yamaka, approaches him. 

"Yep! I can't wait for everyone to see what great care I've been taking of them. Do you, by chance, have a date Mika-chan?"

Mika's face colours as red as the carnations next to them. 

"That's not why I'm here!" She smooths out her purple work robe. "I'm here to ask how things are coming along. It's coming up very soon."

Oikawa's eyes drop temporarily. "Yes, I remember. But I wouldn't worry, Mika-chan! We have a month!"

Mika nods her head. "The flowers look good." She says before heading off. 

_ One month _ . Oikawa repeats in his head. One month isn't a lot of time. They have most of the planning done, and invitations are to be sent out soon. But the nagging feeling in his head persists, the paranoia ebbing its way back just as fast as his meeting with Mika. 

"How has the work on the invitations been?" Kiyoko steps into Yachi's dark lit office. Books are messily scattered amongst the mahogany wood of her desk from her bookshelves that frame a similar colour. The plain white candles in the corner dim, evidence of Yachi being there for a long time and how the sky had turned to nightfall. Yachi scribbles words messily onto a piece of paper in haste before answering. Kiyoko, who has changed out of her equipment and is wearing comfortable, simple black clothing, peers over Yachi's work and a high stack of letters in front of her. 

"It's been kind of a mess!" Yachi shrieks, finishing her last sentence with a flourished swipe of her pen. "We have to invite Contratawa, but everyone has been apprehensive and Tooru's said nothing! I don't know how we're going to get these out in a month, either! Maybe there's something else I could do but-"

"Don't overwork yourself, Hitoka-chan. There's plenty of time left. The carriers are dependable, or else they wouldn't be working." Kiyoko picks up one of the letters, Yachi's normally neat handwriting printing the outside. "And I think this looks lovely. Anyone who says different needs my glasses."

Yachi giggles, an exhale following that echos her laugh. "I hope so!"

"How many do you have left?" 

"Excluding Contratawa, about twenty. Tooru always loves inviting as many people as possible to show off, as I'm sure you've noticed. I think he just does it so he can scare off suitors, though."

"Any other preparations you have to follow through?"

Yachi's face falls. "Was that an invitation to hang out? I'm so sorry, Kiyoko! I'm so swamped by all the work for the gala I don't think I'll be able to! I really, really want to, but I can't!"

"No, that's okay. This is important. I'm sure everyone will have appreciated your work after you're finished."

Yachi's face melts. It does that a lot around Kiyoko, she realizes. Compliments are something she doesn't get often, and when they come from her specifically, she feels like she could blend through the floor. 

"I should leave you to your work, okay? I don't want to distract you." Yachi's brain shoots straight to "No, you don't have to leave, really, it's fine," but the words don't come out of her mouth. In fact, it just leaves itself open as Kiyoko opens the door and turns to leave. 

A startled noise makes her way out of her throat. "Wait!"

Kiyoko, with her piercing grey eyes, turns to look at Yachi with rawness painting her expression. Her eyes lock her in place, daring, no,  _ hoping _ , for Yachi's words. But Yachi's never found herself good with them, and now especially isn't a good time. 

"N-no, nevermind!" Squeaks from her mouth. Kiyoko, while face perfectly structured and stiff, lets her face fall the slightest bit. Such a movement would easily go unnoticed. Kiyoko exits her office, and Yachi feels her throat tighten in the worst way. 

She knows she's never been good with words and was completely fine with that. While talking to people was hard, what couldn't you express the same in words carefully thought out and written or through an intricate art piece? What can't you express? She thinks now. 

Her answer is clear as day, or ironically in this case, as neat as her writing. All of the things she's written that day, perfectly penned and show off her professionalism to her kingdom, to woo those into coming. 

Emotion isn't told in personal writing and art. It has to be interpreted. 

She sighs and buries her head in her work. 

"The decorations are in?" 

"Yes."

"The chefs are set up for food preparations?"

"Yes." 

"Has my outfit come in, the blue one with the white accent?"

The tired service worker eyes him, a simple shift of their pupils as their head never moves from its tight positioning above a clipboard. 

"It should be here soon."

Oikawa hums, nodding once. "Have the invitations been sent?" 

"Yachi-san is almost finished with them. Sorry to intrude, but is Contratawa being invited? Yachi-san says she needs an answer.

Oikawa frowns. "Contratawa, huh?" His eyes shut briefly. He knows his answer, it is always the same, but it's always hard to say yes  _ and _ convince the scared locals. "Tell her to go ahead with it. None of the kingdoms are told directly to be representatives. Maybe I just won't see their lineage the entire night!"

The service worker beside him blinks once. They monotonously continue to check off Oikawa's list. "I understand, Oikawa-sama." Oikawa can't tell if they say that about relating to him or as in accepting an order. Maybe that was the purpose of the abstract reply in the first place. 

"Well, war is on the table too. I wouldn't want to disrupt them when we're inviting the entire nation."

The service worker's eyes simply dilute on their clipboard. "Of course, Oikawa-sama. Is that all?"

"The flowers. Is there an arrangement of people who can move them from the garden? I want to see them decorate them in the ballroom just in case it needs touchups."

Everyone in the castle knows "touchups" is code for "I will personally overlook it and if it doesn't fit my liking I will personally redo it all". The service worker simply looks over and wonders why their prince wouldn't just say he wants to do it himself. 

"Of course, Oikawa-sama. I'll send those requests off. Yachi-san will be pleased to know Contratawa is attending for the sake of concrete ways to finish her work, but if you don't mind my intrusion-" They pause, purposeful. If Oikawa wishes to stop them, he is most welcome. He doesn't say anything nor gives any visual cues, but they understand it is a motion to continue. "-Please be wary. We haven't interacted with Contratawa in years, even over the years of the young king, so I've read. Do not fall for any suspicious behaviour." They bow, taking their leave. 

Oikawa breathes a sigh of relief. One less person to be suspicious of the trade that they aren't aware of. 

Of course, though, some random servant of the castle would have no idea of the gift he received, right? It's not overtly suspicious behaviour, Oikawa decides. And the chances it came from Contratawa? He'd like to think of them as near impossible, and Yachi wouldn't go around telling people personal things. He decides to push Contratawa out of his head once more. He finds spending more brainpower on thinking of them as more contact with them than they've ever had to be something he doesn't want to do. 

"Tooru! Thank you for telling me about Contratawa! I was so worried I wasn't going to be able to get the letters out in time!" 

"Ah, did I worry you that much, Yacchan? Sorry about that! But you seem to have done a great job."

They watch the crowd of carriers stack the letters and other packages onto carts pulled by horses as they set out for their journey. The invitations were expected to arrive at the neighbouring kingdoms in two weeks. 

"T-thank you. But please warn me next time! And don't forget about the meeting you have later today!"

"Okay~" Oikawa drawls. 

They watch as the carriers jump onto their horses and begin their departure. Yachi doesn't notice Oikawa's face fall strictly, for just a glimpse of a second.

"Tooru?" Yachi looks up to Oikawa's much taller frame. She's glad she doesn't have to imagine cowering in front of him and worrying about her every move and if it will cost her job anymore. Oikawa looks down at her from said towering height. 

"H-how do you talk to people?"

Oikawa only laughs at her poor misery, probably figuring her out in just those six words already. 

"What do you mean, Yacchan? We're speaking, aren't we?"

"T-that's not what I mean-"

"Did something happen with Kiyochan?"

Shoot. Seems like she was unfortunately right. She tries to slink away, already regretting asking, but there are many powerful people in her kingdom, and they easily reign people in with their eyes. 

"Well, she came to my office while I was working last night, but she wasn't distracting me! I was doing all of my work, I promise! But that's what she thought too, that she was distracting me. And I-I couldn't tell her I wanted her to stay. She looked sad when I tried to stop her and then say 'nevermind'. I'm so stupid!" She  _ really  _ hopes Oikawa will let her keep her job at this rate of spilling things she doesn't know is appropriate to tell the prince of her kingdom. Maybe all of her fears haven't completely dissipated yet. 

"You know Yacchan, you don't give yourself enough credit."

"H-huh?"

"I don't know where you got the idea that you were stupid from, but that's not it. I'm sure Kiyochan knows that as well. I'm sure she wanted to stay, but she understands you too. You don't have to be good with words, Yacchan. You can just say what's on your mind. I'm sure lots of people would appreciate it, especially from someone like you who always says nice things."

"Oh! I don't know-"

"Yacchan, please do me a favour. If you're going to continue to feel bad, go apologize. You haven't ruined anything, and you can use your honesty. I'm sure Kiyochan will accept."

"But what if she just says that everything's okay? What if she doesn't want to be around me anymore?!"

"Yacchan, have you seen her?" Oikawa deadpans. Okay, maybe not the best counter-argument, Yachi thinks. She tries to open her mouth, but Oikawa interrupts her. 

"No more 'buts'! You can do it. I believe in you."

Yachi isn't sure how she's supposed to respond to that. Or, more-or-less, counteract it. She supposes she's once again been submitted to the fate of Oikawa Tooru. 

"Okay." She starts. She hopes the new wave of confidence in her voice isn't just her imagination. "I'll start there. Thanks, Tooru."

"No more standing around here for you, Yacchan! Kyochan's waiting!"

And with that, Yachi hopes that the emotions of a broken voice will be enough. 

"Oikawa-sama." His military and foreign affairs assistance workers gather around him. They bow their heads briefly before turning their heads to him, faces eternally stern. A room full of people who know what the world in front of them will offer, be it death and not being blinded by the 'eternal' prosperity of Nichitora.

"Are you sure this is smart, Oikawa-sama? We don't know about Contrawtawa's aims." Yahaba, his watchmen, asks. 

Oikawa sighs, the words floating by, familiar. "We say this every time we plan. We've always been skeptical of Contrawtawa's aims, but they fund our kingdom. Not inviting them would be a mistake, as much as I've considered it."

"I know this is your first gala, Oikawa-sama, but please-" Kindaichi, head of trading, tries to reason. "It's better to be safe than sorry, right?"

"In previous years this wasn't questioned. We invite Contratawa or risk debt or war. They can't try anything on us, not in front of such a large crowd. And if they do, and we get off unscathed, they'll look foolish. This is my final decision."

The meeting is dismissed. Oikawa can tell he's lightened the anxieties of his adversaries, but not enough for the ingrained paranoia that Nichiotra engraves into every resident to disappear.

A week and a half pass, and Oikawa doesn't want to prep for a gala anymore. As fun as it is showing off to other kingdoms and shooting suitors into the ground (all because he can), there's responsibility -as always- placed on his shoulders. Can he not have a bit too much sake and throw the night away? "No," says literally every person around him. What's the point in planning a party if he's just going to play chaperone? 

Now that he thinks about it, maybe seeing Yachi and Kiyoko try to be around each other might be amusing, seeing as Kiyoko will probably get the night off. 

He winds the steps to the highest point in the castle, his bedroom, only to find another one of the maids at the foot of his door. 

She jumps when she notices him beside her, almost dropping the bouquet in her hands. Oikawa takes note of the vase, the same one as the bouquet he received earlier. Sky blue with white dots and a sun hanging in a non-existent corner. 

"So sorry to intrude, Oikawa-sama! I just received this and was told to deliver it to you when I was told Yachi-san was busy! I tried knocking, but there was no answer, and now I see why there was none, and-" She cuts off her own rambling. "This is for you!" She pushes it lightly into Oikawa's arms, gives him a quick bow, and hurries past him and down the spiral stairs and out of sight. 

The flowers are still unmarked. Hollyhock, Ivy, Lucerne, and Narcissus are neatly placed together.  _ For the sake of formality, I hope your kingdom stays well. For as forward as I was, I wish for your friendship and vitality.  _

"Huh..." Oikawa muses. From seducing him to wishing him prosperity was quite a switch. He appreciates it regardless and presumes that whoever sent such a brazen message wanted to test the waters they'd never see. He puts it up to the one next to it, acutely analyzing the details of each of the vases. Perfectly matching, right down to the position of the sun and the dots that cover the blue of the sky. Love isn't something Oikawa strives for, but to have someone sending him messages through flowers was, at the very least, endearing. He fluffs the flowers in the front slightly and redoes the same with the other vase to make them stand out amongst everything else in his monochrome room. Endearing was one word for it, but suspicion was another.

A knock comes from his door, hollow and soft. He'd like to already guess who's on the other side. "Yacchan? Come in!"

Yachi opens the door, a letter in her hand. "Have you spoken with Kiyochan yet?" He smiles, a knowing grin etched on his face. 

But to his surprise, Yachi's expression doesn't falter in embarrassment or otherwise. She hands him the letter in her hands. 

"I-I wasn't able to. I got stopped and was asked to hand this to you."

"Being a personal assistant sure sounds draining, Yacchan."

"N-no! Not at all! I love this job!"

A breath cousin to a laugh comes from Oikawa's nose. "You're too easy to tease, Yacchan~ Where did this come from anyway?"

She hesitates, almost like she's putting her job on the line by speaking a simple word. 

"...Contratawa." 

Oikawa's face quickly snaps to her eyes, and Yachi jumps back at the unexpected reaction. 

"Why Contratawa? Did they receive our invitation and are deciding not to come? I wouldn't put it past them if they didn't, they probably don't even know how to dress for such an occasion."

"Contratawa is incredibly fishy. Haven't you already connected with them this year? But I think you should read it, just in case?"

Oikawa thumbs over the creases of the letter, the apprehension at the brim so high Oikawa wonders if the letter is trying to get him to cut himself on its edge. "Thank you, Yacchan. I'll look at it."

Yachi opens the door and before she leaves says: "If you need anything, like, concerning the letter I'll try to help as best I can!" 

"I know you will, Yacchan." Oikawa lets an easy smile slip onto his face to dampen her concern. "You should go talk to Kyochan, though! Wouldn't want to keep her waiting~"

A noise akin to the squeak of a mouse passes Yachi's lips as he can hear her scurry down the spiral steps as the noise gets quieter and quieter. 

The letter, for all of the shit he's said about Contratawa, is wrapped in a deep red, symbolic of the kingdom's colour. The ribbon and the stamp holding it together share the colour, and the ribbon wraps perfectly around the entire thing with no perfect address to who it's to. The letter itself feels almost like sandpaper to the touch, but Oikawa thinks he might just be imagining it. He lightly tears off the ribbon and the stamp before weaving his hands in between to pop open the midsection of the letter. 

The writing that greets him is a cross of a scribble that Yachi would have when she is stressed or hurried, and some cursive that royalty is tended to expect to have. He can tell the cursive is forced, the loops of some letters looking incredibly jagged and the writing itself being hard to read. 

_ Dear Royal Family, or in this case, Crown Prince Tooru Oikawa. This letter is something I have personally written  _ (as if it was such a pleasure to be the recipient of said thing, Oikawa huffs in his head)  _ to alert you to the knowledge we have received your letter, and are going to attend.  _ (How  _ wonderful _ ! Oikawa deadpans.)  _ The letter that was sent was very pretty, please give my condolences to whoever created it.  _ (He's not sure if telling Yachi would be a good idea to help her confidence or increase her paranoia.)  _ I would hope to receive a letter back, just on the terms that this was sent. Thank you again, and we'll see you soon.  _

_ Sincerely, Crown Prince of Contratawa, Hajime Iwaizumi.  _

At the bottom of the page, there are a couple scribbly sentences, most likely as a quick afterthought that accompanies the letter in the scribbly writing. Before he gets to it though, he mulls the name Hajime Iwaizumi inside of his tongue. If he could, he would chew it and spit it out onto the letter he's going to send to the heart of Contratawa, making it known that he doesn't care what the crown prince of said region thinks because it's his damn gala. He's familiar with the name but never had the chance to truly assess it. He chooses to ignore it in favour of reading the last sentences on the page. 

_ I'm sorry if this is informal, but I'm not sure if I'm actually supposed to be writing something to tell you we're coming. I hope this is okay, my advisors said so, but I can't trust them because they love to lead me astray. As an off-note, I hope your day is going well. Actually, nevermind. That's awkward. I'd advise you to not read this entire last part if you can.  _

Oikawa, who has his quill positioned over his own piece of paper and ready to write out a quick, dismissive, response, finds the sudden change in eloquent wording to something much more...personal is something he seldom sees. Especially not from kingdoms who use their royalty and highness as something to flaunt and laugh at others. He finds his hand stopping and the pen being placed down in favour of picking the letter back up to reread all of the words that had real meaning on the page in front of him. He's never seen another royal express genuine emotion, let alone confusion and seeking help from another royal,  _ especially  _ when it's someone Oikawa's opinion on runs thin. 

Prince of Contratwa, Hajime Iwaizumi? Maybe there's a couple of extra things he can throw in there. For all of the hate and paranoia he's supposed to harbour for a nation he knows nothing about except that they're keeping his kingdom afloat, he's sure he can spare just a little more for the sake of finally having a human connection besides the ones in the castle and the lineage above him that loves to prove that they are the best. 

_ Dear Crown Prince of Contrawtawa Hajime Iwaizumi, I, too, hope you are doing well. Thank you for sending me a letter, now I know I can mark you off for coming. You were not lead astray by your advisors, but some advisors they must be to make you think along those lines of logic. I'm sure my own closest advisor will be incredibly happy to hear you enjoyed her planning and formatting, as she was slightly stressed at the notion. She'll love to hear the news. Thank you once again, Crown Prince of Nichitora, Tooru Oikawa.  _

And he thinks he's owed his own afterthought right? As ridiculous and embarrassing as he finds writing like this to someone, any less than perfect, it's thrilling to not have to put something on for someone with the notion of showing off. Maybe Hajime Iwaizumi will think of it in the same way he did. 

_ If you would like to, please sent me a letter back to let me know you received this one. I hope your advisors won't mess up delivering this to you.  _

Oikawa has only met the Crown Prince of Contratawa, Iwaizumi Hajime, seven times in his life. Thrice they were in the presence of his parents which he tagged along with, and every other time to do the deed himself. Iwaizumi's parents had died young, leaving Iwaizumi to finish what they had started. 

Every once a year, Contratawa and Nichitora meet in a secluded area with few spectators to sign a pact that has never been known to the public. Money is handed over from Contratawa, and Oikawa's found himself signing a promise that he was never able to research, let alone look at for too long. Sign the paper, hand over the money, complete the trade. 

Iwaizumi and he shared glances every so often, strictly professional and shared very few words. It seemed like they were always assessing each other and sizing each other up as possible rivals, or at least to Oikawa. 

Perhaps Iwaizumi only looked on in curiosity. 

Iwaizumi also always wore a flower meaning something in his suits. They never seemed to mean anything, sending mixed messages to Oikawa across the board. 

Every so often through, what he can assure is purely coincidence, comes something touching or perfect for the scenario. 

Maybe when Oikawa looks at him, Iwaizumi also reads that the curiosity is a two-way street. He wouldn't be wrong.

Yachi's door is slightly ajar as she buries herself in her work once again. Oikawa lightly pries it open, just enough for it to squeak and grab Yachi's attention. 

"Tooru! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask how gala preparations are going."

Yachi squints her eyes painfully, but the look disappears before it can be registered as something to be taken seriously at the moment. 

"Well, the ballroom is being shut down from public use, and the staff are helping to file in the decorations. The flowers won't be moved for a few weeks as well. Everything's running smoothly. What was the letter from Contratawa about?"

Much to the surprise that shows on Yachi's face after, Oikawa's face colours. "Their crown prince wanted to tell me that they received our invitation and that they'll be coming."

"Already?" She asks. "I know that they're close, but I didn't realize that they would get the invitation already?"

Oikawa smiles. "He says he greatly enjoyed the design of your invite."

Yachi's eyes go bug-eyed. "T-the crown prince?!" 

"Yep!"

Yachi's voice reaches octaves too high, even for her. "The crown prince of a kingdom I'm supposed to be, at the very least, skeptical of,  _ complimented my work? _ "

Oikawa only laughs, laughs in a way that was somehow invoked by his greatest enemy. "I told you, Yacchan!"

Yachi shakes her head in disbelief. "Was there anything else?" 

"I'm writing him back."

"You're  _ what? _ "

"Why do you sound so scandalized?"

Yachi opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "So said enemy we're not supposed to be talking to not only complimented me because they could and now you're suddenly writing them back? You  _ hate  _ Contratawa!"

Oikawa gasps in his own fake scandalization. "I don't... _ hate  _ them."

Yachi sighs. "No, you're right. I'm sorry. It's just...you might not hate them but everyone else does, and now that I think about it, how welcomed do you think they'll be at the gala?"

Oikawa sighs. It feels like all of the air he's ever spent has been spent on sighing the past few weeks. "I know. But there will be others there, and I would hope everyone would trust my judgement. But enough about me! Did you get to talk to Kyochan?"

"Yes...I did."

"And? How did it go?"

"I made up with her. She-she understands." Instead of bursting into flames, Yachi's smile melts fond like the world has been stripped away and in the outer realm, Kiyoko is waiting for her. Oikawa almost wants to cry. She seems so grown up. 

"Proud of you, Yacchan." He says, nudging her.

"Thanks, Tooru."

A few days later, he receives another letter from Hajime Iwaizumi with the red, silky wrapping. The letters are again, forcefully and messily written in cursive, but the blockish letters are more prominent.

_ Dear Crown Prince Tooru Oikawa, I'm glad to hear that this wasn't too much of an informality. My advisors started to laugh at me because I was 'fraternizing with the enemy'. I think they're just morons.  _ Oikawa almost spits out the nonexistent liquid he's drinking, while also hitting concerns. The apprehension surrounding Contrawtawa was supposed to be secluded to just Nichitora. He writes it off as a joke.  _ Earlier they snuck into the palace gardens and rolled up many leaves and were trying to imitate the witches that reside on the outskirts of the kingdom. They're sure to be cursed, and maybe then they'll realize. I'm sure your advisor is much more controlled. She should be very proud of her work. I look forward to seeing it when I arrive. Thank you again for your letter. Again, if you don't mind, could you send another to make sure that you've received this?  _

_ From, Hajime Iwaizumi, crown prince of a kingdom that doesn't matter through letters, or on these at least.  _

Oikawa wants to see what said advisors are really like. Yachi'll probably faint if she heard the Hajime Iwaizumi decided to compliment her as well. He's glad though. Yachi came to him seeking a new opportunity and she's been noticed too. And he's completely right as well. How much of their kingly titles and a flaunting hierarchy of a kingdom was important to a few friendly letters? 

His letter in return, he hopes, will enlighten Iwaizumi as well. He feels slightly guilt about hoping so many things onto Iwaizumi's conscious even if he'll never know but would Iwaizumi still be sending him letters if his interest wasn't at least piqued? He assumes so. He lifts his quill and poises his hand to write his return. 

_ Dear Crown Prince Hajime Iwaizumi, to start, your advisors sound as incredibly interesting as I had envisioned. My advisor, once she was made known of your kind compliment, reacted in such a flurry. She's funny but helpful. I'm glad so many people see her great worth now as much as I have. She's been fawning over one of the knights in my castle. It's been very funny to watch them dance around each other. You have your own palace gardens as well? If you don't mind my ask, how interested are you in your gardens? I love them. I sometimes think flowers will be the only thing to keep me company someday. That is unless you keep writing to me. I'd hope to hear from you again soon.  _

_ Sincerely, Tooru Oikawa (technical crown prince). _

He considers asking for advice about the flowers he's been receiving but thinks against across his better judgement. He might not even like flowers and that was just something he interpreted, let alone him knowing the ins and outs of flower language. But he has a garden, and that's good enough for Oikawa.

_ A few days prior... _

"Iwaizumiiiiii~~" Hanamaki sings from the hallways. 

"You're going to disturb someone." Iwaizumi walks down the halls next to the wide archways in the front of the castle where Hanamaki is grinning his usual wide smirk. 

"What do you have?" Iwaizumi instantly turns suspicious like looking at a guilty dog who had stolen something. Except Hanamaki wasn't at all guilty. The dog part could be contemplated. 

"I may or may not have something you've been looking for."

"Did you take my fucking keys to the storage closet? I couldn't find them you asshole!"

"No, what? I have no idea where your storage keys are. No, I have something even greater."

Iwaizumi takes a look at the piece of paper in Hanamaki's hands. 

"Is that-"

"Indeed Iwaizumi. Now, what do you say so you can have this?"

"I'm grabbing the forms."

"Okay, here you go, bye!" Iwaizumi snorts. Hopefully, he'll have leverage for a little while. The letter he holds in his hands has the Nichitora crest made of cyan and the standard red stamp. It doesn't look as good as when it's all red but there's not much they can do over there he supposes. He carefully unwraps the letter as the rising sun tans his face golden, and the letter feels more sacred than he could ever think. Maybe it's his rejection letter. Contrarily, maybe it's the start of something new. 

After reading it, he wasn't aware Nichitora had such a prestigious writer in its prince. But he likes it, likes the change between the numbing of Hanamaki and Matsukawa's ramblings to intrude on his days. Maybe now would be the time to talk about the garden, however little mention he'd put in. If he was going to see Oikawa for the first time in a friendly matter, he was going to do it right. 

The next time he receives a letter from Oikawa, he's cracked him to talk about his garden, or Oikawa's interest in him having one. His flirty remark at the end makes his heart beat a little faster than he's felt before. Tooru Oikawa, while not even being there, had taken over his heart's interest once again. 

While preparations seem to hit their all-time high and the castle bustles too fast for anyone not used to the feeling to keep up, the gala stands at less than two weeks away. 

This time, when Oikawa seeks to hide in the confines of his room to give himself an ounce of a break, the letter and flowers are synonymous. The flowers still stay unmarked with the sky vase, and the letter is familiarly addressed. 

He lightly touches the letter first, all forms of work and stress lifted slightly from his shoulders. 

_ Dear Oikawa, if you're okay with it I think writing out entire titles is stupid, and whoever the hell invented that must have a lot of time on their hands.  _ Oikawa snorts. He's definitely not wrong.  _ I do, in fact, have a garden that I really like. Of all of the hobbies that I had to take, I don't regret choosing that because sports wasn't an option for someone of "such high authority as I". We should talk about it sometime. Maybe at the gala? You might be too invested though, I wouldn't want to take all of that hard work away from you. Speaking of, there have been rumours around my kingdom of an assassination at your gala. I'd keep an eye on who comes, and if anything happens here I'll tell you. I hope everything is going well for you over there. I can't wait to see you. -Iwaizumi _

Oikawa lifts the potted flowers next to it though, because if this didn't come with the letter, who could possibly be sending them? They're beautiful and convey messages, but they could be easily decoded, right? There had to have been something with these important flowers, but Oikawa couldn't for the life of him figure it out. This time the same vase was decorated with yellow zinnias, snowdrops, and periwinkle.  _ I think of you often, and I hope you are well.  _

It was beautiful but too far-fetched. What once was something that seemed like someone in the castle possibly understood him was now turning into creepiness because he couldn't find who was sending such messages. Perhaps Iwaizumi was right in hearing rumours of assassination, but from who? And for who? No one would be able to be singlehandedly assassinated in front of an entire group of nobles. Cancelling was looking increasingly tempting, but how much could he trust the words of fruity gossip that stems from the grounds like weeds? Pestering and mock imitations of flowers, he couldn't trust them. 

Iwaizumi had no reason to lie to him. But what if he did and why trying to create chaos? But all of the notes he'd been sending were friendly, if anything stretched, exasperated. 

_ But people love to lie, Tooru.  _ His mother's voice echos throughout his head.  _ Don't trust anyone, okay? Sometimes not even your own judgement can be trusted. Make sure you go with the logical decision or guess what? _

**_ What?  _ ** Rings out in his mind, clearer than the day they had only a couple weeks ago that was cloudless and a beautiful ocean of sky blue that wasn't seen often. The word bounces around so much it creates an echo within his brain, a constant symphony of  _ what?what?what?what?what?what?  _ that never stops invasively breathing down his brain. 

_ They'll come after you.  _ His mother's voice says simple, her red lipstick stretching even wider and painting her a darker red than usual. Not just her lips, but her eyes started to scream in red.  _ They'll get rid of you, don't you know? I've had to deal with that my entire life. So make sure you trust no one, okay? Just for my sake~" _ She knew the ins and outs of his brain, wrapped it along with her finger just for safekeeping. The paranoia had snowballed into something that day, something full of chunks of mud and ice. 

And now, he finds himself at the crossroads, unsure of his next decision. 

"Tooru?" He hears a light voice interrupt the crescendos in his brain. 

"Yacchan..." He breathes. "I think I have to talk to...the king and queen." He hates it, he hates referring to his parents with such high titles because that's not who they are supposed to be to him, he's not supposed to be like everyone else to them. But he was told at a very young age, that's who they were, and even their actions toward his childhood were presented in such a way. 

Yachi, (who he forgot was still standing there, concerned) looks him up and down. "Why do we need them? Is there something wrong?"

"I've been...receiving notices that assassination is planned for the gala."

" _ What?! _ " Yachi screeches. "Who told you that?"

Oikawa doesn't immediately answer. 

"Tooru, you haven't still..."

"Of course not!"

Yachi puts her hands to her hips. Of course, she'd know better. "You're going to go tell your parents that an assassination attempt has been planned, but from who else but the Prince of Contratawa?"

"It sounds worse when you say it out loud, Yacchan! Just-" He pinches his nose. "They put me in charge for a specific reason, but-what would you do?"

Yachi bites her lip, all things considering. She's well aware of the repercussions of cancelling, especially so late. They don't even know if the information they've received is correct and who it's targeted towards, but all sense of logic says Oikawa. But there will be lots of people there, and how likely will someone take a shot at a full assault in the middle of such a huge crowd Oikawa's always going to be part of?

"Tooru, I don't know! I can't make the decision!"

Oikawa purses his lips. "No, you're right Yacchan, and I wasn't asking you to. I shouldn't have put that responsibility on your shoulders. We should continue. There's no sense in cancelling when all of the positives stack against what we're up against. We'll simply increase security. Could you pass that along to Kyochan?"

"Okay, Tooru. Just please be careful!"

"Thanks! Now I've got another letter to write!"

"To the prince?" Yachi says so softly, so small like she's trapped in a corner but can't tell anyone about a secret so sacred she keeps. 

He looks back to Yachi. "Yacchan..."

Yachi simply takes a deep breath. "Just...please." She begs. " _ Please  _ be careful." Oikawa's never heard her sound so weak. Not even in the face of Kiyoko or not in front of anyone who scares her, even if that was him for a time. Yachi has always sounded scared, and her size and voice have caused people to underestimate her. But she has never directly backed down, has always looked for ways to help others. But at this moment, she sounds like she'll turn to dust. 

"Don't worry," Oikawa says, speaks it into existence as a promise. "I'll be careful."

_ Dear Iwaizumi, I'll have to ask you where you got your information about the assassination first. I know we said we were going to talk about gardens and flowers, and I want to make good on this, but I have to know about this. Maybe at the gala, as you've suggested, we'll have more time. My advisor, she's terrified. I'm going to increase security. I'd do anything to make sure she feels safe, her and everyone she loves. I'd like to, and I'm sorry that I have to be like this, but I need this information first. This is what I believe is right. I hope you are doing well.  _

_ -Oikawa _

Iwaizumi scans the new letter he's received multiple times.

"Okay, you can't be serious." Hanamaki pops in, completely out of nowhere as he  _ always does  _ to see Iwaizumi in his vulnerable states. "What could he have  _ possibly said  _ to get our hardened prince, one who doesn't look nearly as sentimental as he is, and hates us for  _ no reason _ -" Iwaizumi shoots him a glare that Hanamaki ignores. "-to look like that?"

"None of your damn-" Hanamaki snatches the letter and reads the thing in two seconds flat because he's way too fast of a reader before Iwaizumi can even finish his sentence. 

"You've got to be kidding me." He mutters. "What did you  _ say? _ "

Matsukawa just  _ appears  _ behind the doorway and peaks in as well. 

"Did he get another letter?" Matsukawa asks as he saunters through the doorway.

"Did he ever. You've gotta read this."

Matsukawa leisurely scrolls through the page. Iwaizumi can't wait for him to finish. They'll laugh at him for fucking up his only chances, and then they'll leave.  _ They'll finally leave, and he can go back to his busy work. _

"Uh, Iwaizumi?" Matsukawa asks. "Are you-"

He snatches the letter away from the two of them and silently stalks away.

The two advisors stare back in concern. For as funny as it was teasing him about Oikawa, Iwaizumi wasn't such an idiot to say something completely out of tone. 

The two frown, wondering what could make the prince see such hostility after a few harmless letters.

The gala occupies his mind days in and nights out. He knows that this is what's right, what is all he can do. If he cancels the event, he knows that tensions will skyrocket on an already tipped surface.

It's not until what he thought wouldn't happen did, right in front of him only a day before.

"Tooru!" His... _ mother _ ...runs up to him in her perfect golden gown and high spirited energy infecting the hallways. She looks as though she's going to run into his arms to possibly hug him, but she stops just short of doing anything of the sort. Typical. 

"Why are you here?" Oikawa tries to keep his tone even, curious, but he can feel the malice shrinking around and coiling it like it's choking the tone of the word itself.

His mother laughs like it's the most obvious reason why she has appeared. Or perhaps she's mocking her son for that exact reason. "Well, a little birdie came up to me and told me some exciting news!"

"Did you forget about the gala? Don't worry, everything's set!" He tries, he really does to make sure he can match his mother's false energy to persuade her (or at least the people around them) to believe that that they're on perfect conditions of thin ice. 

"Oh, no Tooru, that's not it at all! Honey?" She calls for his father that trails behind her. Her pet names, he knows, are horrible, and only ever used when she's trying to convince a public that she's a loving mother in a loving family. 

"Do tell Tooru what he's missed, hm?" She gestures to her husband. 

"Tooru." His father says firmly. "We've heard that someone is trying an assassination attempt." Oikawa can't go  _ two seconds  _ of showing his shock before his mother, again, jumps in. 

"Tooru, you can't cancel, right? I've been waiting for so long, and we have the best security, and I'm sure we'll be fine, right? You said you had it under control?" 

"Yes, of course." He says. He thinks that, maybe, just maybe, his parents have finally seen something blocking their egotistical paths they've strode into. Maybe they're finally worried, for once in his life, about his safety, and what will happen to him with such rumours. 

"But that's not all." Of course it's not. "I've heard you were under the understanding of this. From the crown prince of Contratawa."

A few people stare wide-eyed before scurrying off because they've looked at an event they know they're not supposed to bear witness to. His mother gasps in false shock. "You aren't really, are you? I heard you invited him, but this is a step too far! You  _ know  _ you're not supposed to do more than simply keep peace!" Everything is a show to his mother, an act in a play he never wanted to perform for. 

"This is peacekeeping! He sent me a letter! I couldn't just ignore it and risk aggravating them!"

His mother huffs. "I'm sure." 

Oikawa hardens his face in their presence after such a conversation. His lips tighten and his eyebrows settle flatly, and to anyone else, it would just seem like he's being firm, as he's supposed to do. 

"Tooru?" Comes a voice beside him, sweet. 

He looks down to see Yachi, who once looked at who he was talking to, jumps slightly behind him. 

His mother gasps and her eyes widen in delight. "Is this-little Yachi?" She instead runs over to her and pinches her cheek. Yachi tries to smile through a pained wince. His mother cracks the tension like it wasn't a factor in the first place. "Ah, it feels like it's been forever since I've seen you! Have you been straightening Tooru out as the princess-in-line? Oh!" Her voice turns into a purr. "Have you been finding any of the nice men of the castle to your fancy?" 

"I-no-" Yachi tries to say. 

"What did you need, Yacchan?"

He can see his mother gush at the nickname. He almost wants to never say it again. 

Yachi, when finally being addressed by Oikawa himself, straightens to deliver her news. "The knights are all prepared for tomorrow. They're being stationed all across the castle, and in the castle, correct?" 

"Yes."

"Alright. I just thought you should...be aware of that." 

"Thanks, Yacchan! Now, wasn't there supposed to be something you wanted to show me as well today? With the flowers, I believe?"

"I-sure-"

"Perfect! As you can see, Yacchan has something planned. It was lovely to see you, but I must be going to check on more of the things I've planned for the gala."

"Is that so Tooru? Well, we better leave you to it! Nice seeing you again, Yachi! I'm sure we'll be talking much more soon!" Oikawa can  _ tell  _ how close she was to using the nickname. 

His father turns to him before he follows after his mother who skips down the corridor. "Tooru. Do not fraternize with Contratawa anymore. We will be watching."

Not a 'stay safe', or a 'goodbye' or an 'love you'. 

_ We will be watching.  _ His father had said. Cold cut, as he always will be.

"Are you okay, Tooru?" Yachi asks beside him. 

"As okay as always when speaking to them. Sorry to drag you through that Yacchan."

Yachi spouts off lots about it not being a big deal and leaving him to attend to more duties as she knows about the garden hoax. 

Oikawa enters his room, collapses on his chair, and rests away the evening, hoping the gala will be as worth it as he's provided. 

Oikawa receives his letter in earnest shock. He'd be perfectly happy to spend the night like what he just received didn't exist, but after?

He wasn't sure if he wanted to listen to what Hajime Iwaizumi had to say.

"So today's the day, huh?" Hanamaki asks him as they prepare to set out. 

Iwaizumi lifts an eyebrow. "And?"

"What are you going to say to him?"

"What I have to."

"How reassuring."

"I'll only take Matsukawa if I have to."

"Iwaizumi, no!"

"Well, hurry up. The flowers are going to wilt."

"All ready, Tooru?" Yachi calls from outside his door. 

Oikawa threads his arms through the cyan, white and gold jacket. He straightens his blazer underneath and tightens the buttons. The frills of gold and the cape behind his jacket fall down him like vines. His pants, white with the same gold tinting it, match his brown buckled shoes. His hair is swept to the side and in the gap, he plans to put a flower right behind his ear. But otherwise? Yes, he was ready to go. 

"Coming Yacchan!" He sings. 

He opens the door to Yachi, who fiddles with a lock of curled hair. She's gotten rid of her ponytail, and her hair sits waved on her shoulders. Her dress is gold, a v forming by her neck. The rest of the dress slightly poofs out, lace covering the sparkled golden underneath. Her lighter golden heels (which were so close to the ground they could be mistaken for otherwise) rim around her toes and her ankles. She's put on a bit of makeup, nothing fancy. Oikawa even thinks he might've put on more. But most of all, he thinks that she, too, would look perfect with a flower in her hair. 

"Is this...okay?" 

"Yacchan, you did this yourself?"

"Um...yes?"

"You look divine! Wait until Kyochan sees you!"

"Shimi-"

"Hm?" Oikawa teases a smile on his lips. "What were you going to say?"

Yachi clamps her mouth shut. Oikawa's smile only brightens. 

"You know Yacchan, I think I know of something that would make you look even better!"

Yachi gives him a curious glance. 

"Come with me to the gardens. We have the time, right?"

Yachi checks the small, silver-plated watch on her wrist. "About ten minutes. We have to go, Tooru!"

"That's okay, it won't take long!" He leads her along the corridors, of long dressed maids and tight-suited servants who bustle in haste across the halls. But amongst it all, Oikawa feels elated. Something sparks in the air, a firecracker of excitement for the events about to unravel. 

Oikawa weaves Yachi through his rows upon rows of plants until he finds what he's perfectly looking for. He lightly plucks the flower from its long stem and places it delicately behind Yachi's left ear. 

The blue ignites her face, texturing it to softness and grace. The flower has inwards of white, contrasting with Yachi's chestnut eyes. It's perfect. 

She lightly touches it. "What does it mean?"

_ A Delphinium.  _ "Big-hearted. I think it suits you perfectly, huh Yacchan?"

Yachi's eyes start to form water at the seams. "T-thank you Tooru!"

Oikawa hugs her, her face not even coming up to his chest. Oikawa laughs, just as he always does at her poor misery and heaping display of affection, and she can hear it reverberate between every cell that he's touching. 

"Don't ruin your outfit now, Yacchan! You still have to go say hi to Kyochan!"

Yachi squeals. "Right! I'll see you later!"

He waves goodbye to her as she starts to run as fast as she can down the halls, often stumbling down in the heels she's not used to. 

The clock outside chimes back and forth, the massive pendulum conducting the moves of the guest's arrival. Oikawa mentally curses for not making the time to pick his own flower, but when he remembers Yachi's face, it doesn't seem to matter. 

In other words, he's got someone to meet, and he might as well not be late.

Gala guests trickle in as he arrives at the ballroom. Some have their eyes light up in recognition and thank him for the wonderful set he's put on for them and tell him he looks handsome or a compliment of the like. 

He takes a look around to assess what the decorations have been set to for the ballroom. The tables and chairs have been perfectly spaced so there is plenty of room on the dancefloor and to attain snacks at the nearby table, the decorations haven't been hung messily, and glitter across the ballroom and the flowers have been perfectly set out in greetings of welcome and humility. Soft music plays from a corner where an orchestra is set, and he can see people enjoying themselves and swaying to the music.

He spots Yachi laughing, a high blush on her cheeks but a smile as bright as the chandelier nonetheless. She's talking to none other than Kiyoko, who's dress is half a tuxedo at her torso and half a long flowing black dress down her legs. A bow wraps neatly around her neck. She, too, smiles. Much smaller than Yachi's, but to someone as reserved as Kiyoko, is perfectly placed along her lips. 

He turns to look back at the entrance before twin pairs of hands clap him on both shoulders. 

"Is this the man of the hour?" Hanamaki asks.

"Sure looks like it. Prince Tooru Oikawa, I'd assume?" Matsukawa replies.

"That would be me!" Oikawa turns to plaster the fake smile he puts on for the fancy guests that always try to one-up him in snobbiness. "What brings you to talk to me?"

"Y'know, we've just been floating around, enjoying the party-"

"Very nice, by the way."

"-and we completely forgot what we were here for!"

"What's that?" Oikawa asks. 

"Well, we  _ are  _ from Contratawa..."

Oikawa's eyes open wide at the two strangers who most likely know where the person he's waiting for is. 

"Wait-if you're from Contratawa do you know where-"

"-Iwaizumi is? That we do." The dark-haired one replies. 

"Matsukawa, we've been so rude. We haven't even introduced ourselves."

"I suppose we haven't, Hanamaki. That  _ is _ terrible." They share a twin glance toward Oikawa, one he picks up...hostility? from. 

"Takahiro Hanamaki." The one with pink hair gestures to himself. He points to his friend beside him. "Issei Matsukawa. Advisors to the all-holy prince of Contratawa."

"Advisors?" Oikawa asks. 

"The ones and only's," Matsukawa replies. 

Oikawa gasps, the gears finally clicking into place as he tries to ignore the words that scald his brain from the letter he'd recently received to trade for his peacefulness. "Iwaizumi talked so much about you two! I've been waiting to see who the advisors are that cause him so much trouble was!"

"Iwaizumi  _ has  _ talked about us." Matsukawa gives Hanamaki a smirk. "Of course, we are quite great-" Hanamaki's sentence is cut by a swift jab to his head. Nothing to mess up his attire or injure him, but a warning shot. "What was that for?"

"Give it a rest, you two. Stop bothering the prince." A new voice emerges, rough on its edges but fondness leaking through the cracks at the advisors in front of him. He steps out in front of the two tall men, a scowl boring into them before it fades as he looks at Oikawa.

"We'll be going now!" Hanamaki turns away with Matsukawa to leave. Hanamaki claps him on the shoulder once and faintly whispers: "Don't try anything." before walking off with Matsukawa.

"Nice meeting you!" Oikawa responds back, a shiver running up his spine. Iwaizumi, in front of him, clears his throat. 

He lightly lifts Oikawa's hand and kisses his smooth middle knuckle in greeting. For as much as he wants to be mad, Oikawa feels his head growing light, and the room turns to spin. 

"Hajime Iwaizumi." He says as he hesitantly sets Oikawa's arm down to again flap at his side. "We've never...really talked."

"Tooru Oikawa." Oikawa smiles in return, one of the softest and most genuine smiles he's had for the first time in a period he can't count for. "It's nice to meet you, Iwa-chan." Iwaizumi's eyes fly up at the nickname before his ears turn a shade redder. It seems to ignore the letters was much easier to have a better time.

"Yeah." He replies. "There's something I wanted to give you if you'll allow me."

"You're already getting me gifts? Awe, so considerate already!"

"Stop it." Iwaizumi mumbles and tries to look away. He pulls out the flower that resides in his breast pocket, surprisingly clean for the trip he endured to get to the gala. He holds the flower in front of him, the white petals slowly spinning like when potters shape clay. 

_ Gardenia. _ He recites the flower and the meaning in his mind. But before he can even define it, Iwaizumi does it for him. 

"You are lovely." Now it's Oikawa's turn to flush, and his mouth turns into an 'O' as Iwaizumi places the flower behind his right ear. 

But Iwaizumi wasn't done. He pulls out a new flower, a Viscaria to replace the gardenia.

"Can we choose to ignore our words in favour of the night?" Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi only nods solemnly, instead directing the conversation to a new question.

"Will you dance with me?" He mutters as Oikawa's face starts to slowly light up. "I'd love to!"

When Iwaizumi takes his hand, they swirl around in a perfect waltz, trusting each other perfectly as old friends would, despite the tension they're trying to decide isn't there. They spin around snooty couples who step on each other's feet, and Oikawa laughs when Iwaizumi dips him and their faces press close. 

"Are you sure this isn't going too fast?"  _ Is this okay?  _ Oikawa translates in the middle of the waltz.

Okay be damned. He's got one night. 

He chuckles into Iwaizumi's shoulder. "If it wasn't okay, I'd surely let you know." He sees Iwaizumi physically relax. 

At the end of the song, they have matching smiles and matching blushes on their cheeks. Oikawa can see Yachi and Kiyoko look over from their own dance to smile. Maybe they're both incredibly good at faking what they can't hide. 

Maybe, there wasn't something that wasn't there to hide in the first place.

"Well, Iwa-chan, what do you want to do next now that you've gotten the full ballroom experience?"

Iwaizumi looks around. "You've done really well with everything here. It looks incredible."

"Awe, Iwa-chan, you think so?"

Iwaizumi snorts. "Yeah."

"But Iwa-chan~" Oikawa sings. "That wasn't an answer~"

"I-um-" It's funny, seeing the one he's been writing to be stuck to the floor in an attempt to decide what do to at a social gathering. 

'Don't worry." A smile sneaks onto Oikawa's face. "I think I know just the place to go."

As he leads Iwaizumi to the garden, Iwaizumi starts to frown behind him. 

"Don't you want to enjoy the party? You put so much work into it after all."

"Parties are great and all Iwa-chan, but I much prefer it here. I don't want to have to stay in a room full of people I don't want to talk to more than I have to."

Iwaizumi's face tilts in surprise before assuming it couldn't be directed at him. 

Oikawa smiles past the two guards that give the two of the stern looks as they enter the doors. One of them whispers to the other, and while they can't hear what they're saying and Oikawa pays it no mind, Iwaizumi can't help but feel uneasy about their flat stares. 

Oikawa busts the door open, and the glass of the room above flattens to show the nebulas of the stars above and a single crest of moonlight that slivers in. The garden is only hit with the slight dusk, the flowers creeping around like a peaceful forest. 

Iwaizumi sucks in a breath. While his garden is great, Oikawa's is  _ fantastic.  _

"When you wrote to me, you told me you enjoyed your garden. Is that still true?" Oikawa asks. 

Iwaizumi can only nod his head in awe at the expanses, the row over row of plants that range every colour of the spectrum and could be used to colour Oikawa's castle twice over. 

Iwaizumi floats between the columns, examining the plants and their beauty. Oikawa only stares at him fondly from a distance. 

For a while, that's all they can do. While the gala ranges into full swing nearby, and the music pumps between partygoers' veins, they spend infinities of time in the garden of their own sanctity. The night is young, innocent, newborn. The heavens above seem to suspend in the clouds, freezing in time just for them. 

Oikawa hasn't intimately known Iwaizumi long. But he feels as if they've been lovers for as long as he's known how to remember. 

Perhaps in a past life? He'll never know.

As the 'O' that forms Iwaizumi's yawns gets larger with his fatigue, Oikawa starts to follow suit. 

"I've got one more surprise, Iwa-chan!" He whispers into the night. 

He leads the two of them to a small wooden door that creaks when he opens it. It is more well-worn than all the things in the previous room and creaks when Oikawa turns the loose handle. 

"I don't usually let people outside here." 

In front of them stands a marble balcony where the stars hang perfectly overhead and the crescent moon ignites the sky. Little lights make the balcony beam, and comforters and pillows are messily splayed, but not uncomfortably. 

"Would you...want to stay?" 

Iwaizumi's face melts, too tired to react in any sort of different way. 

"I'd like that."

With the comforters and pillows displayed amongst them and the canopy of the sky above them, Oikawa lies his back against Iwaizumi's chest and sits between his legs. 

"I used to come up here when I wasn't feeling very good." He wears a smile as if the memories that come to mind are pleasant. "Unfortunately, I just don't have the time anymore. But I'm glad that just this once...I'm able to spend it with someone else."

"You're a sap." Iwaizumi says fondly. 

Oikawa huffs a short laugh. "Maybe I am."  _ I'll be a sap for as long as I can around you. As long as what you said isn't something we have to bother with. _

He leans back into Iwaizumi and turns his head to the stars to indulge in his second favourite hobby, stargazing. He perfectly names the constellations, pointing to each one so Iwaizumi can see them as well as he can. Eventually, their eyes grow heavy, and Oikawa's arms droop as he sinks into Iwaizumi. 

The two of them rest there, in their awning of the suns as a protector. 

Iwaizumi hears something, something shift into the night. Oikawa still lays peacefully on top of him, breathing light and pulse fluttered. But he hears it. He hears the whispers, hears the footsteps. He can hear them, gaining, trailing. He knows they don't have much time. 

As much as he'd like to ignore it and wrap Oikawa in his arms and fall asleep again, he knows he can't. He lightly tugs on Oikawa's shoulder, coaxing him to wake up, and Oikawa gives him a soft groan in protest. 

" _ There's something wrong. _ " Iwaizumi says, as quiet as he can manage. 

"Iwa-chan..." Oikawa says groggily. 

"We have to-" But he can hear it down there too. The rustling, the spying. He tugs on Oikawa's shoulder and hoists him up. Oikawa pouts at him before he tilts his head when he sees Iwaizumi put a finger to his lips and gesture to the old wooden door. 

Oikawa creaks it open as lightly as he can, and they squeak back into the garden. 

He knows he can't tell Oikawa what he means to. Not when predators surround them on all sides. So he purses back and forth through the lines, picking flowers. He knows the message will get across to Oikawa that way. 

Oikawa looks like he's about to protest before Iwaizumi gives him a hard stare and signals him not to talk. Oikawa merely looks on in worry. He picks goldenrod, laburnum, nettle, butterfly weed, and whortleberry. All plants that point to negatives signs, Oikawa recalls. 

_ Be cautious, for treachery and the blackness of evil is among us. I can see it-the deceit and cruelty.  _

" _ No... _ " Oikawa covers his mouth. "It was  _ you? _ "

"What?" Iwaizumi tries to stay silent. 

"I can't do this, everything was so nice until you decided this. I should've known!" Oikawa screams, uncaring. "You picked those bouquets and sent them to me. You tried to get me to fall in love with you! And when I finally was, you broke my heart! I wanted to ignore it, it seemed like you did too, but I  _ know  _ you're trying to kill me!" 

"I did send those flowers! But what the hell are you talking about? I wanted to get to know you! And then you said some dumb shit back too! What the hell was your problem?"

"What the hell was  _ my  _ problem? What was  _ I think it's best if we don't see each other after, only professionally. We can enjoy tonight, but I think this should be the end! _ "

"Wait, what? I didn't send you that! I didn't even send you a last letter after I received yours that said the same thing!" 

"But I didn't put that on there in my last one either!"

"Oikawa..." Iwaizumi says slowly, eyes widening. "There's something wrong. I know you may not trust me, but we were just given the same letter telling us to cut contact. Someone's trying to..."

" _ Separate us, _ " Oikawa whispers in mutual realization. He goes to open his mouth again before two guards storm the room.

"Oikawa-sama! There are two men-"

Oikawa's eyes widen. "I understand." Iwaizumi turns and follows right after him.

The two run as fast as they can, the hallway only a taste of the wake of the mess in the ballroom. Oikawa quickly grabs a spear to defend himself as Iwaizumi assures him he's confident in his fists. 

Most of the guests have cleared out in fear, and two men with heavy coverings, one with a longsword and one with an axe, weave their heavy weapons at everyone who dares to even glance into the doorframe of the room. 

Many people scream in the background, ugly wails of worry. Many are cowering outside. 

The rooks have taken the pawns. 

He and Iwaizumi simply share a look, and they take off. 

Iwaizumi skillfully dodges the incoming barrage of stabs being taken at him by the longsword but finds the armour hard to break when able to take jabs with his fists. But he chips and cracks at it until he can get a good hit in. 

Oikawa, beside him, tries the same strategy as the opponent who's facing Iwaizumi, fast, quick stabs in the direction of his attacker who's axe was too slow to keep up with his nimble movements. The two enemies seem to be falling back at their presence, being too overwhelmed to even look away. The bishop and the knight push and push back until the rooks are caught in a spot where they can't move. 

But then, the two switch positions. They hadn't realized one of them had been a king after all. 

The one with the longsword appears in front of Oikawa in the blink of an eye, and suddenly, pain ruptures from just above his hip. He sputters blood, the scream of pain dying in his throat as he falls to the ground. His fingers don't move fast enough, they shake too much, and he finds he can't cover the wound. His white robes stain with crimson red. His vision swims in the black of the very midnight of the sky as more blood pours from his wound, and there is nothing to stop it. 

He sees Iwaizumi beside him notice and lose his focus to a gut-tearing scream before one of the attackers takes the armour that's attached to his arm and bashes it painfully against Iwaizumi's skull. The last thing he sees before his vision swallows him is Iwaizumi, light traces of blood scattering the floor, and his body is knocked to unconsciousness. 

In the distance, he hears a high-pitched scream that he can't identify. The sound gets quieter and quieter until the world around him fades to the silence that once was. 

His body feels numb like it's barely being held together by scratched ropes used as puppet strings. His eyelids are too heavy to open, and his throat and lips dry as though he hasn't touched liquid for hundreds of years. Pain caresses his body, and he briefly sees the gardenia that was in his hair fall into a thousand white pieces in his lap. His hands and legs are scratched by the chains that shackle him to something behind him. 

He can't even repair the flower. 

He looks up to see his vision once again race, recognizing the bars that separate him from whatever outside world is on the other side. A figure he can't recognize on the other side looms above him, a wide, too wide grin, stretching across their face in such malice he knows is reserved for special occasions. 

When the person notices his weariness and consciousness, their eyebrows quirk up in surprise before resuming their earlier look. 

"Well, I hope you had a nice nap,  _ Tooru _ ."

**Author's Note:**

> Don't be fooled by the cliff hanger, there's more to come! So once I get out of my severe burn-out I plan on writing a Kiyoyachi prequel and the sequel to this story!  
> Go follow me on twitter @phoenixesse or tumblr @rosiey9 for updates and rebloggings/retweets of people's cool things because I can't do art :) !!


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